first off, you should know, that my light's on but i ain't home
Her amusement is reflected by the easy smile that crosses his face when she speaks. He’s attuned to where she moves her hands, a sharp inhale at the way she lifts the hem of his shirt to point the tip of the wooden dagger against his spine. He tilts his head slightly with delight at the way she’s thought of it. But he follows the point of her words as she begins to tug at the hem of his pant leg until he can feel the air brush against too warm skin against the handle of his hidden dagger.
And when she looks at him, she’ll find a positively wicked smirk along his face. Her chin on his chest bone, his hand in her hair, one hand along the small of her back. “I might not have a dagger in hand, but I’m never unarmed…” He hums to her, the hand at her back shifting into claws, where the tips of them poke at the shirt that she wears – dangerous and tempting yet unharming unless she presses back against them.
His heart continues its thundering rampage within his chest, fingers tightening in her hair and moving slightly to stroke through the pale white tresses as he gazes down to her – a predatory delight glimmering within the storms of his eyes. He’s pleased by this outcome, pleased with her thought process of never quite giving in even when the battle is ‘done’. Though, perhaps to be a bit more of a test for her, he leans back ever so slightly into the fake blade she presses against his spine with a playful wink.
And when she looks at him, she’ll find a positively wicked smirk along his face. Her chin on his chest bone, his hand in her hair, one hand along the small of her back. “I might not have a dagger in hand, but I’m never unarmed…” He hums to her, the hand at her back shifting into claws, where the tips of them poke at the shirt that she wears – dangerous and tempting yet unharming unless she presses back against them.
His heart continues its thundering rampage within his chest, fingers tightening in her hair and moving slightly to stroke through the pale white tresses as he gazes down to her – a predatory delight glimmering within the storms of his eyes. He’s pleased by this outcome, pleased with her thought process of never quite giving in even when the battle is ‘done’. Though, perhaps to be a bit more of a test for her, he leans back ever so slightly into the fake blade she presses against his spine with a playful wink.
up high, but i stay low
SuNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
